


Hero's Journey

by Who_Needs_Reality



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bellamy PoV, Bellarke, Classics Nerd!Bellamy - Freeform, Enemies-To-Friends-To-Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Slow Burn-ish, The Odyssey - Freeform, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Needs_Reality/pseuds/Who_Needs_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6 times Bellamy reads the same book to different people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero's Journey

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random fic I was inspired to write, because book nerd Bellamy/classics nerd Bellamy is the real Bellamy, and we all know everyone knows it.

**_i. Octavia Blake_ **

"She'll like it, right Mom?" 

Aurora smiles at him, that fond, quiet smile that Bellamy's never really liked because it tends to mean his mother thinks he doesn't understand something, and he hates not _understanding_ things.

"Of course she will," is all she says, "you'll be reading it."

She hands him the baby and tips her head back to sleep. Bellamy doesn't know if he's carrying his little sister properly, making his way to his room, if he should put the book down first, but he hangs on to it in the end, for comfort. He can't decide how best to lay Octavia on the blue comforter, so eventually he doesn't, he just keeps her tucked against his chest as he tugs open the book.

"Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy," he pauses. The words don't sound as good out loud, too big for his small, six-year-old voice. When his mother reads _The Odyssey_ , it always sounds, important, like it means something. He feels stupid for a second, like he should just put the book away and go find  _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ or something. He's just closing the book when Octavia lets out a small whine.

He looks down at her, startled. He can't be sure it was a noise of protest, he can't be sure that the wailing she's starting is a desire for him to continue, but he does know that when he keeps reading, when his fluting voice again fills the small bedroom with Homer, she stops, and he can feel her little chest rising and falling against his own.

"Tell me, too, about all these things, O daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them," he continues, and Octavia's eyes start to droop, their lids as light as butterfly wings. He keeps reading, but this time, he knows she likes it.

**_ii. Aurora Blake_ **

He knows it's not technically silent- there's the humming of the machines, the low drone of voices in the corridors, the distant rumble of a far-off television- but it feels that way to Bellamy. Octavia's asleep, curled up like a cat into the chair across the room, looking two instead of twelve, with her hair spread across her face. 

Aurora's awake, he knows, he can feel her eyes on him. She's too tired to speak, though, too tired to move. She's still watching him.

"Try get some sleep Mom," he says, trying not to let his voice crack, "you need the rest."

Aurora still stares at him.

Sighing, he retrieves  _The Odyssey_ from the pocket of his backpack, flipping the pages to where he last dog-eared it. 

"Menelaus smiled and took Telemachus's hand within his own..." 

He reads it better than Aurora did now, his voice deeper and weightier. 

"Meanwhile the suitors were throwing discs or aiming with spears at a mark on the levelled ground in front of Ulysses' house, and were behaving with all their old insolence."

He doesn't know when she falls asleep. He just knows she doesn't wake up again.

**_iii. Raven Reyes_ **

"Ah, the Princess graces us with her presence!"

It's a reflex reaction, the nickname, it lashes out like a whip whenever he sees her, the glint of her golden hair, the pristine outfits, the new textbooks, the aura of expense and privilege. It annoys her, he knows, and that's really why he does it- he likes the response it elicits, he likes ruffling that otherwise perfect persona that is Clarke Griffin.  _Princess_ is the verbal equivalent of chucking a stone into a pond to see the ripples, of stamping through the snow where it's perfectly settled. Nothing should be so tranquil and easy and perfect, Bellamy of all people knows that.

"Fuck off, Blake," she says, squaring her shoulders, tossing her braid over her shoulder, sitting primly at the next table, "I'm just here to study."  
  
"Like you need to study," he smirks, leaning back, his arm around Raven who rolls her eyes at him, "what're they going to do to you if you fail? Wheedle more donations from Daddy?"

Her fists clench on her textbook, but she says nothing, and Bellamy feels a slight uneasiness unfurl in the pit of his stomach. She's ruffled, alright, but he's not sure he wants to completely _crack_ her.

"Stop being such a  _dick_ , Bellamy," groans Raven lightly. She finds their hostility funny, funnier than she might if she and Bellamy were anything serious. But he's just having fun and she's just having fun and they both know it, so Raven isn't hugely perturbed by the vitriol that he and her best friend exchange every day.

"Whatever the lady wants," he says, lips against her neck, "I'll behave now."

He picks his book off the table, and starts reading, loudly enough that he knows Clarke Griffin, the princess in her textbook tower, will hear him, unable to resist prodding her some more, seeing how close to the edge he can get her, her and her wealth and her security and her _Princessness_.

"The queen is preparing for her marriage with one or other of us," he reads, his arms around Raven, as she laughs and rolls her eyes and slaps at him, "little does she dream that her son has now been doomed to die."

_**iv.** _ **_John_  ** _**Murphy & Jasper Jordan & Monty Green & Nathan Miller & Lincoln Woods** _

The music blares and the boys jeer and Bellamy feels stupid and giddy, like he's standing on top of the world, not on top of a barstool.   
  
"This is a toast for Lincoln," he yells, as loudly as he can over the music, "for not having any other friends, thereby letting us crash his Bachelor party!"

Murphy and Miller roar, whilst Monty and Jasper clap a bashfully smiling Lincoln on his shoulders.

"Also, for being a really decent guy, despite still being _way too fucking old_ for my sister."

More roars, as Lincoln ducks his head, the cowboy hat slipping over his brow, smiling ruefully at the countertop. 

"And now, a word from Homer-"

" _Seriously_?" Miller makes a noise between a laugh and a groan, "this is a  _Bachelor party ~~~~_dude, not a Latin class."

"What do you expect from the guy who showed up dressed as a Centurion?" smirks Murphy, adjusting his own angel wings.

"Thank you Murphy," says Bellamy, "now let's all shut the fuck up so I can do this thing." He holds the book up, mock-solemnity to disguise how serious this really feels, and makes a show of clearing his throat. "Lincoln, you're getting married- By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember." 

He slams the book down triumphantly and does a shot.

Clarke calls him a couple of hours later, after he's made his way home. He feels a rush of exasperated affection for the Maid of Honor, who didn't trust him not to drink himself into a stupor, so insists on calling rather than texting.

"I didn't have to have my stomach pumped," he says by way of greeting.

"That's exactly what someone who had their stomach pumped would say," she answers, "but I'll take your word for it."

"Your faith is inspiring," he says, grinning into the phone as he swaps his Centurion get up for pajamas, feeling suddenly more himself as the glasses replace the contacts.

"Happy to oblige. How'd the toast go?"

"I think it went okay," he says, suddenly anxious.

"Dude, you brought  _The Odyssey_ to a Bachelor party-- I don't see how that could have failed."

"That's not what you said when I pitched the idea."

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "I was just keeping you on your toes."

"Gee thanks, Princess."

"Anytime. See you tomorrow for practicing the wedding speeches?"

"Sure," then, after a beat, "God, my baby sister's getting  _married_."

There's warmth in her laughter. "She sure is. G'night, Bellamy."

" 'Night."

**_v. Clarke Griffin_ **

If it was anyone else, he'd be annoyed. The first day of summer was sacred, it was his day of rest, freedom from lesson plans and grading and faculty meetings. He just wants to be alone and not interact with people and not change his clothes. 

Best friends, are, of course, exempt from this rule. Best friends with whom he is slightly madly in love even more so.

Still, it's a surprise to see her at his door, her hair escaping from the remnants of a bun in wisps, her scrubs creased and rumpled after a hard day's wear.

"Hey," his voice does that thing it's been doing around her for a while, where it softens and practically screams  _I love you_ with every breath, "what's up?"

She looks at him with tired eyes. "We lost Roan."

Instantly, his stomach plummets. Roan's one of the patients whose story Clarke's been keeping him up-to-date with, as far as the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality will allow. Strong, smirking Roan, who always greeted Clarke with sarcasm, even going into surgery.

"I'm sorry," he says, automatically pulling her in for a hug. 

She changes into a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms and an old-tshirt when she collapses on his couch. "I'm fine," she says, "really. It's just been a long day." She glances at him, smiling wearily. "Sorry," she says, "I interrupted The First Day of Summer."

Bellamy snorts. "Shut up, Princess. You're not interrupting anything."

She leans against him, her head against his chest, tucked into his side. "Thanks, Bell."

He doesn't say anything, just runs his hand through her hair.

"Bellamy?"

"Hmm?"

"Read to me."

He doesn't ask questions, just reaches across, trying not to move her too much, and lets the book fall open where it will. 

"Down from his brow; she ran his curls; like thick hyacinth clusters; full of blooms," he reads.

She doesn't sleep, though her eyes close. "Bell?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't die, alright? If you die..." he sees her throat move as she swallows... "just don't die."

He hopes she can't feel how erratic his heart beat has become. Even if she can't, she can probably hear how his voice cracks when he says, "whatever the Princess wants."

He can feel her smile into his side.

**_vi. Arianna Blake_ **

"I love you," he says, smiling the stupidest, happiest smile, "I love you so much."

Clarke laughs, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you too, you big doofus."

"And I love  _you_ too," he says, pressing his lips to the baby's soft forehead, "I love you."

"So do I," said Clarke, smiling at Arianna with the power of the sun. "Here," she says holding their daughter up to Bellamy, "hold her."

He takes her carefully, eagerly. "Hey," he says, "hey Arianna. I'm going to read to you now."

"Get used to it," says Clarke from the bed, beaming, "he'll never stop."

"Damn right I won't." Arianna in the crook of his arm, he sits carefully in the chair beside the hospital bed, scooting it closer so Clarke can nestle her head on his shoulder. "Come then, put away your sword in its sheath, and let us two go up into my bed so that, lying together in the bed of love, we may then have faith and trust in each other."

Arianna fixes him with unblinking, transfixed blue eyes. An identical pair gazed at him from the side, hands grazing the back of his neck.

"I like it when you read," she says, not for the first time.

Bellamy smiles, the wide, unfettered smile he hasn't held back from her since the first time he gave it. "Good thing I like reading then."

Arianna blows a raspberry in agreement. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys enjoyed it, feel free to leave comments/kudos! Or if you didn't let me know what to improve! Come find me on where I'm always ready for fic requests or crying about Bellarke. Send me prompts or just come chat on [tumblr](http://kingedmundactually.tumblr.com)!


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